


Stranded

by Catstaff



Category: Tarot (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catstaff/pseuds/Catstaff
Summary: Winter 1986-87. Stranded due to a broken-down bus and with a storm moving in, Tarot gets the last couple of rooms in a hotel already filled with other travelers sheltering from the weather. Sakari and Pecu discover that their room has just one bed... and that they have more in common than they thought.
Relationships: Zachary (Sakari) Hietala/Pecu Cinnari





	Stranded

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. No disrespect is intended towards any person whose name is used in my stories. I write fanfiction purely for my own entertainment and hopefully that of others as well. I own nothing but a rather vivid imagination.

Sakari walked into the hotel room, followed by Pecu, and grumbled a curse. Bad enough the damn tour bus broke down – again – and they would be stuck here overnight at the very least, maybe longer with the snowstorm just getting started. At least they were on the way home and wouldn’t be missing any gigs as a result. He supposed he ought to be grateful that the breakdown happened near this little place in the middle of nowhere, Lapland, and that it had just enough vacancies for them considering that they weren’t the only travelers stranded by the weather, but they hadn’t mentioned at the desk that at least one of those rooms held single king bed instead of two smaller ones.

He picked up the phone and asked if they could get a rollaway but frowned upon hearing there were none left available. “Damn. I guess we’re stuck,” he said.

The drummer looked around and shrugged. “Better sharing, than trying to sleep on the broken-down bus in the snow, right, Saku?”

“Yeah, definitely. I’m just not used to sharing a bed, you know?” Sakari said.

“Could be worse, dude,” Pecu teased. “At least your brother decided he wanted to room with Mako this trip, or you might have had to share the bed with him.”

“Vittu, Spede, are you trying to make me sick even before we start drinking?” Sakari laughed. “Also, I remember from camping out together as kids, Marko kicks like a damn horse. I just hope you don’t play drums in your sleep. That could get painful if you decide my back is your snare.”

“Not that I know of, anyway,” Pecu said with a laugh. He did have a tendency to cuddle anyone in the bed with him, but didn’t mention it, because he thought Sakari looked uncomfortable enough at sharing the bed with another guy. He just hoped he’d wake up before Sakari did, if he should end up wrapped around the guitarist at any point. The last thing Tarot needed was the awkwardness that would surely ensue if any of the guys realized he swung both ways. “Shall we go see what they’ve got in stock at the bar?”

“Might as well, you know the tv reception will be for shit this far out and in this weather,” Sakari agreed. “Be lucky if we get anything to come in at all.” He resolved to keep the drinking to a minimum, though. He hadn’t admitted to anyone – even his brother – that he found broad shoulders just as attractive as big tits, and now he was faced with at least one night in the same bed with someone he’d spent the last few years covertly admiring. He had no problem getting drunk after a show when there were groupies around, because he could sate his urges with one of them. But tonight, that wasn’t an option. He figured staying sober-ish would keep him from doing anything stupid that would make things awkward with Pecu.

Despite the best efforts of Marko and Mako, Sakari succeeded in his attempt at keeping himself to a light buzz, noticing that Pecu seemed to be doing the same. Probably a good thing, he thought, as the two of them were still steady enough on their feet to drag their thoroughly shitfaced bandmates to their own room once the hotel bartender had enough of Marko’s loud and ribald singing and tossed them out.

Pecu rubbed his shoulder after dumping Mako on a bed. “Damn, he’s heavier than he looks. That hurt, keeping him from faceplanting on the stairs.”

“Yeah, Marko’s no featherweight either,” Sakari grunted, heaving his brother onto the other bed. “It’s probably just as well they have their own beds; if one of them pukes, he’ll only get himself and not both of them.”

“Oh, well, if that’s why you didn’t drink much tonight, thank you!” Pecu said with a laugh, throwing his arm over the guitarist’s shoulder. Then he winced. “Vittu, I think I really pulled something, keeping Mako from falling.”

“I’ve got some muscle salve in my bag,” Sakari offered. “You’re welcome to use it.”

“Thanks,” the drummer said with a smile. Once back in their room and in possession of the salve, he took off his shirt and started rubbing it in. “Mind giving me a hand? There’s a spot I can’t reach.”

Sakari swallowed and took a breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, sure.” Steadfastly ignoring the part of himself telling him to turn it into a massage, he carefully applied the salve to Pecu’s shoulder. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Pecu said, giving him a warm smile.

“Anytime,” Sakari replied, smiling back but not quite meeting the drummer’s eyes. He tried to distract himself, carefully replacing the salve back in his first aid kit and repacking the kit into his bag. He sighed when he realized he didn’t have anything in the way of sleepwear with him; the old bus didn’t have the best heater even when it was working perfectly so they all just slept in their clothes, and at hotels, double beds were usual, plus they usually had groupies joining them, in which case clothing became optional. With no real choice, he performed his usual ablutions and stripped to his skivvies before sliding into the bed.

Pecu took his turn in the loo and slid into bed naked since he’d gone commando but remained sitting up against the headboard for a moment. “You mind if I put the tv on for a bit? My mind wants to keep going for whatever reason. Some stupid late-night talk show ought to bore me into falling asleep.”

Sakari nodded. “Yeah, go ahead, as long as you don’t blast it.”

“I’m a drummer, but I haven’t gone deaf yet,” Pecu joked, hitting the power button on the remote and clicking until he found something suitably inane. He arranged his pillow so that he could lie down and still see the screen while staying fully under the covers and slid down, getting comfortable.

Sakari closed his eyes as the tv came on quietly. He lay on his back with his head turned away from Pecu so that he’d be less likely to latch onto the drummer in his sleep. He forced himself to relax and soon dozed off.

Pecu had just started to relax after an hour or so, when a soft moan from the guitarist’s direction caught his attention. He turned to make sure Sakari was okay, a move which resulted in him spooning against the older man’s side. One glance told him that the guitarist was fine and simply having a very, very good dream, his arousal obvious even through the bedcovers. 

“Mmm,” the sleeping guitarist murmured. He wiggled around a little, rolling to his side and rubbing his ass into the drummer’s groin. Under the covers, his hand slid down to rub his cock, causing him to moan softly.

“Saku?” Pecu wasn’t quite sure what to do in this situation, even as his dick reacted with pointed approval. He’d spent enough time admiring that ass from behind his drum kit that he had no objections to getting more familiar with it, but at the same time, he didn’t want the other man to wake up and freak out at feeling an erection pressed against him. Seriously, what was the etiquette for dealing with a sound-asleep bandmate… friend… crush… wanking and grinding his ass on you? He shifted a little, trying not to wake the guitarist.

“Spede… oh yeah, so good…” Sakari mumbled, a little louder this time. 

Pecu froze. Had Sakari just said…?

“Please, Spede, more…” Sakari moaned again, this time loudly enough to wake himself up. Blue eyes flew open as he realized he had one hand wrapped around his cock and his ass pressed against… oh, dear God, no… Pecu’s crotch. He blushed, starting to scoot away. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry … I never meant… I just…” In his mortification, he didn’t register that the drummer seemed to be enjoying the contact.

Pecu snaked out his arm, catching Sakari around the waist and holding hm in place before he could fall out of bed. “Hey… shh… it’s okay, Saku. I’m not mad.”

“But… you… I…” the guitarist flushed uncomfortably.

“Were you dreaming of me?” the drummer asked. “Please be honest, Saku.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again and waiting for the disgust that never came.

“Now I have to wonder if you’ve been looking at me as long as I’ve been looking at you,” the younger man said, a hint of amusement in his tone. He loosened his grip on Sakari’s waist, only to slide his hand below the waistband of his underwear. “I never thought I’d have a chance with you.”

Sakari gasped as Pecu’s hand wrapped around his cock. “I… what… but…”

The drummer leaned in close to murmur, “Do you want me to stop? I will, if that’s what you want.”

“No, I just… I never…” Sakari could feel his cheeks going red, even if most of his blood supply was currently somewhere south of his waist.

“Never? I’m your first man?” Pecu asked softly.

“Yeah… I was scared… scared I’d be hated,” Sakari admitted. “I don’t know what to do.”

Pecu shifted again, pressing his own erection against Sakari and shoving the guitarist’s underwear down as far as he could. “Stop thinking. Just feel,” he said. “Do whatever you want. Touch me however you want. Whatever feels good.” He nudged his face through Sakari’s mane of hair to kiss his neck, even as his hand stroked the length of the older man’s shaft. “Feel what you do to me, Saku. You don’t know how many times I’ve played a show with a hard-on from watching you shaking your ass out there in front of me.”

With a soft moan, Sakari wiggled the rest of the way out of his underwear and turned so he could reach the younger man’s cock, exploring the familiar yet alien contours of the rigid column of flesh. He rubbed his thumb over the head, slick with pre-cum, as his fingers slid along the length. “Is this good?” he asked. Knowing that Pecu desired him as well increased his own excitement, causing his cock to twitch in the drummer’s grasp.

“Mmhmm… I always heard that guitarists have the most skillful fingers,” Pecu said. “Drummers have great rhythm, though.” He smiled and leaned down to suck hard on Sakari’s neck as he increased the pace of his stroking. 

Sakari arched up, panting for breath. “God, Spede…”

“You look so hot right now, Saku,” the drummer whispered. “I want to see you come for me, baby.” He moved faster still, circling his thumb over the head, teasing at the slit. “I want to show you how much better the real me is, over your dreams.” He sat up and tossed the covers back, kneeling between Sakari’s legs. 

“What are you…”

“Trust me, baby,” Pecu said. “This will feel great.” He pressed his throbbing cock against the guitarist’s, stroking them both with one hand, dropping the other between them to cup Sakari’s balls and tease lightly over the soft skin of his taint.

“Spede… I… oh… God!” Pushed to the brink by the unexpected sensations, Sakari thrust up wildly into Pecu’s fist, spurts of creamy white spattering over their stomachs and chests.

Pecu followed him over the edge, exploding a heartbeat later. “Saku… so good…” he groaned as he came. He grabbed the third pillow, giving silent thanks that king beds in hotels always had three pillows on them for some reason. He pulled off the pillowcase, tossing the pillow aside and using the case to wipe them off before he flopped back down and pulled the older man into his arms.

Sakari snuggled in and shyly kissed him. “Now what?” he asked.

Pecu smiled, returning that kiss. “Now… we sleep. And I’m gonna hope that you’d like for this to be more than just tonight… that maybe we can keep seeing each other even after the bus is fixed and we get back home again.” He unconsciously held his breath, as he waited for the guitarist to answer.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” Sakari said.


End file.
